


Efficiency

by whatacartouchebag



Series: Mercenary AU [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Gen, mercenary au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 17:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16100396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacartouchebag/pseuds/whatacartouchebag
Summary: Any good field agent requires an even better team working behind the scenes. Yuma works within the Academy to provide on-site support and intel to just such agents, but even the sharpest of minds can only work so long without a break. However, when a 4am coffee run offers him the opportunity to meet one of his heroes face to face, he's not quite sure whether to praise his luck or blindly panic.Good thing he's efficient at both at the same time.





	Efficiency

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to how Harry met Sally. Except in this case, it's how Yusei met Yuma face to face at the Academy. It's been touched upon briefly before that the two of them know each other by name, and not codename, and thus, this story was born. I've been wanting to include these two in the Merc AU since it was conceived, but aside from brief oneshots and prompts, they never existed properly before this piece.

Tired eyes blinked sluggishly in the bright halo of monitor lights. Hours upon hours of code and surveillance and information and _headache_ had passed through his equally tired brain and it was only now that his processes were starting to slow down.

Fingers reached up to rub at his eyes, his other hand joining the first as he slapped himself lightly on the cheeks. He knew the information needed to be processed as soon as humanly possible.

How the Academy expected _this_ amount to be processed as fast as humanly possible was another thing.

“You could allow me to share the workload, Yuma,” came the gentle tingle of a voice in the back of his mind. A hand waved him off easily, and the young man sat a little closer to the monitor nearest to him.

There was a pause lingering in the silent air of the room, full of bright monitors that failed to reach dark corners.

A sigh filled the young man’s mind.

“Astral, can it,” the short mumble dragged across lips.

“Your efficient cognitive functions are lowered by seven-”

The sharp huff left him as he sat back from the monitor, tired irritation flooding him. Just once he’d like to get through a round of reconnaissance without interrupting or _help_. Just once.

“Correction, six point eight percent.”

Yuma’s head leant over the back of the chair, glaring at the ceiling as irritation ticked through him. _Just once._

Advanced somatic tactician, his _ass_. Maybe he shouldn’t have designed the son of a bitch to be so thorough with his responses. Perhaps then he’d have a little more tact when addressing an already tired person with a ridiculous workload and zero tolerance for annoyance.

“I need more coffee if I’m going to finish this before tomorrow,” he huffed to himself. The silent sigh lingered in the air behind him. Yuma promised himself to switch the bastard off if he kept up his hovering act.

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” Irritating, irritating, _irritating._ “Why not go and get some yourself?”

Yuma opened his mouth, promptly closing it as the words registered. He sat upright once more, turning his chair around and facing the apparition that phased into existence behind him. Holographic eyes met red and Yuma waited. Astral sat back, folding his legs neatly as he hovered in the air.

“The walk will reawaken your senses, give you physical stimulation, and if you use the vending machine on the eighth sub layer, would take you directly past the gymnasium.”

Yuma would _not_ allow the heat to creep to his cheeks, and he turned sharply from the hologram, folding his arms.

“The cafeteria makes better coffee!”

“At this hour, I doubt it.” Oh, that _ass_.

“They’re still open!” a weak protest, and Astral didn’t even have to analyse the rise in his pitch to read the stress in his voice. “And it’s less of a walk! I could be back here and working faster! That’s a two percent increase in productivity speed!”

The program _did_ sigh, and placed slender fingers to his forehead. His creator was blatantly obvious sometimes, and it hurt him to process it.

“Continuing to debate the subject for the standard average duration will reduce that time, Yuma. You should know that by now.”

The young man narrowed red eyes at him, something that would have been fierce had the bags under his eyes not lessened the effect.

“That _particular_ vending machine also sells your favourite candy.”

_Ass_.

“It’s the… wrong time of night for too much sugar,” Yuma protested.

Astral very nearly threw his hands into the air in exasperation. Sometimes he had to wonder exactly what was going through the young man’s head. As it was, all this procrastinating was doing little else but shift his attention _firmly_ upon that which he didn’t want to think about.

A mild crush was something that Astral, over time and careful processing, had learned was something that could be the utter bane of a person’s existence. Such a vivid distraction that took up a person’s every waking thought, pushing their physical stress through the roof at its extreme.

“Yuma,” the program said softly. Red eyes glanced back up at him, the tint of colour still sitting upon his cheeks. Even if articulation _was_ the module he was most proud of, sometimes the young man pushed the limits of his programming.

The warm smile tinted glowing lips as he nestled next to Yuma, seated on some non-existent chair alongside him as slender fingers lay gently atop a shoulder.

“There is no harm in acknowledging such things to yourself,” he began. “You did, after all, program me to be brutally honest with you, particularly when it comes to matters of you well being.”

Yuma gave a low groan at that. Great, the reasoning portion of his logic module, he thought tiredly. It always seemed to be the part that got him to relent to whatever Astral had to say, too. Mainly because it _never stopped to shut up._

The young man gave an inward sigh. Why did he have to string together such an all-knowing, pompous, succinct piece of code with the vocabulary and mannerisms of sleek honeyed promises and truths in his ear?

There was a gentle poke to his cheek as Astral brought him back to the present once more.

“Not only that, this constant denial has impeded your overall performance by a further half percent in the last week alone. Simple coding errors are one thing, but the Academy won’t stand for repeated mistakes, and you know it.”

The words were spoken gently and innocently enough, but it was still enough to make him squirm a little. He knew he had to get over this thing. He _knew_ it. It was just… kind of hard when the object of his distant affections was the equivalent of the most popular guy in school when Yuma was… well, the nerd in the corner.

More importantly than that was the mentioned threat that loomed over his head. Finding his place at the Academy had proven the chance of a lifetime, and Yuma had thrown himself at the opportunity to work entirely for such an organisation. To be headhunted by them was one thing, but to feel that chance crumbling away in the back of his mind like so many grains of sand in the wind… it dogged his thoughts almost as much as the agent on his mind.

He couldn’t afford to screw it up now, not when he’d proven himself so useful to them time after time.

One hand idly picked at his thumbnail at his side; he was caught and he knew it and damn Astral for being such a smarmypants about it.

“I know, I know…” came the eventual murmur of defeat. “I just… look, if I act on anything, well… you know what he’s like. I mean, we all do! He’s quiet and grouchy and probably wouldn’t even know what the heck I’m on about,” Yuma prattled out as his brow knit together.

“If I don’t say anything, it’s fine and we can all go on with our lives as if nothing ever happened. Of which nothing ever will,” he continued, closing his eyes. “I mean… he’s way out of my reach, Astral. Leagues. _Eons_. He probably doesn’t even have a type, let alone the closeted computer type. So it’s… it’s nothing but a pipe dream…”

The program had to acquiesce at _that_ one; the agent in question never really seemed to show any sort of affection or even appreciation for anyone in particular around him. Still… Yuma seemed intent on giving up before even trying; probably the only field in his life he could safely say such a thing.

It almost felt like some sort of brotherly instinct – had Yuma really given him that or had he discovered such things on his own? - that welled up within him. He only wished to see the young man do well in life, and finding his own happiness would always be a large part of the program’s desire.

“Well regardless of his type, I daresay that after all this you deserve a chance to stretch your legs _and_ get yourself a cup of coffee,” Astral told him matter-of-factly. “I’ll even put on your favourite playlist when we get back.”

Yuma met the program’s eyes finally, concern still swimming in their depths. There were many things Astral was, but utterly devoted to Yuma’s well-being was first and foremost in his core functions. Something that the young man was eternally grateful for at times.

The faint smile stirred at his lips as he gave a brief nod. “That sounds perfect.”

Astral couldn’t help the soft slip of an amused chuckle from him as he reached up, brushing bright fingers across that wayward mop of hair. At the very least, he’d wrung the answer he wanted from Yuma and the young man seemed a little less stressed about the situation. On the other hand, he still worried that his creator was taking on far too much with this current project, as per usual. He would have to sneak into his files whilst he snored at his desk, just to check for mistakes and make minor corrections of course; not at all to take on what could not be finished.

Yuma couldn’t help himself as the heavy yawn suddenly dredged from him, bringing the program back from his thoughts as he watched jaws stretch wide open, the sound all but wrung from his tired body.

It was as if a switch had been flipped and the little ball of stress had finally been pulled from his stomach, leaving him to realise simply how tired he really was after the last half a day or so of staring at screens. Half a day? Three quarters? He honestly couldn’t remember when he first sat down at this point.

There was a final click as his jaw settled back into place, and he reached up to rub at tired eyes, taking a short sniff to settle his tingling nose.

“Okay, I think I need that coffee now,” he mumbled, eyes still closed as he continued to rub at them. Astral couldn’t help but laugh, drawing away from his charge and heading for the door.

“Well then, we should get a move on,” he replied as the darkened room was flooded with light from the opening door.

Yuma gave a hiss of mock protest as he walked into the stark luminescence of the hallway. For all his horrible hours of staring at bright monitors, eyes straining as he reviewed endless code and documents, there was something painfully intrusive about pure fluorescent lighting that drilled into his senses.

Fingers dipped into his coat pocket, withdrawing a pair of sunglasses and setting them firmly in place as they walked, as if it were the most normal response. The action only seemed to draw the casual sideways glance from his companion, who bit the sigh back and continued to trail alongside the young man who had already pulled out his phone and picked up where he left off with his work.

If he wore his _proper_ glasses whilst working, it wouldn’t be such an issue. If he worked in a properly lit room, it would _also_ not be a problem. So many arguments with the programmer over such a thing, and Astral knew he was wasting his metaphorical breath on him.

Some quirks were destined to remain deeply entrenched, after all.

With Astral acting as the distracted young man’s guide dog, he led him deeper through the complex, only occasionally having to nudge his direction around another agent or obstacle. Yuma never once looked up as he walked, thoroughly engrossed in his work. Whilst he could appreciate his diligence – and his cognitive functions _had_ already recovered thanks to the brief walk – there was something to be said for taking in the world around him.

The program glanced up at the elevator coming up alongside them, already accessing it and opening the doors as they approached. Bright eyes flicked over to his charge as they wandered within the small car. Yuma was still stuck on that last line of code, brows furrowed behind his sunglasses.

With little more than a tweak of his own code, Astral closed the doors to the fourth sub layer and sent them trundling gently down to the eighth.

It took only a few moments for them to arrive at his desired destination, and with a little luck, the cafeteria really would still be open for those agents working late. With the gentle settling of machinery, the doors slid open and the two of them continued their path.

Astral caught the soft chime of his navigation alarm as he glanced up at the upcoming corner. Overlaying the framework of the veritable fortress to his vision, he saw the incoming stride of an agent around the corner and he blinked in response. Well this was unexpected…

In a moment of utter cheek, he vanished from existence, tucking his coding safely back into the very phone Yuma carried. Sometimes his creator needed a little push, and Astral knew just how to hit those buttons.

Yuma continued walking, oblivious to his situation or sudden lack of companion program. He strolled around the corner, suddenly colliding bodily with something warm and solid as his phone clattered noisily to the ground.

Hands clasped his shoulders firmly to steady him and he stared up into blue eyes and a wild shock of two-tone dark hair.

“Sorry about that,” the smooth tenor came from the taller man, drawing back to glance at the short programmer.

Yuma gave a sound becoming of a strangled gerbil and red eyes widened sharply behind his sunglasses.

“F-Four four five ze-! I-!” he stammered, drawing the brow raise from the agent. Nobody ever really remembered his number. “I-I was- I mean- I’m so sorry!” He whipped back from the man and his hands, oh god his hands had _touched him_ , and snapped into a hasty bow, clapping his own hands together in front of him.

“I wasn’t watching where I was going a-and I was completely distracted with work and I’m just _s-so sorry Stardust!!_ ” he blathered out in a sharp breath. He wouldn’t blush. He _wouldn’t_. Oh good gods it was _him_.

The agent could only give a short chuckle as he stooped to recover the dropped phone. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied simply, turning the device over in his hands. At least nothing was outwardly damaged. “Here.”

Yuma startled again, glancing up from where he stayed bowed, eyes settling on the offered phone. He tried to remember how to actually breathe again as his hands moved on autopilot, curling fingers about the device.

“You’re eight four zero one, right?”

The innocent question brought the young man standing straight up once more, tension snapping through him like a jolt. “Y-Yes!” he squeaked. Did he-? He _knew who he was_. This was a veritable game changer for Yuma!

He could do this. Really. Interacting with people was normal. He was normal.

The agent couldn’t help the faint smile from curling at the corners of his lips as he watch the young man have a complete mental shutdown before him. Were all programmers this jittery, he wondered idly.

“Utopia?” the agent added after a moment of thought. At the very least, it seemed a little less derogatory to call him by his codename rather than a string of numbers.

Yuma could only blink at him, utterly awed by the man. For all their scant interactions, something only ever as a consultant during briefings or providing minor intel when he was on a mission, Stardust seemed to have memorised not only his designation, but his codename as well.

“Y-Yeah…” he breathed. He seemed to realise how he was reacting and he ducked his gaze away, giving a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, it’s kind of- well I never thought you’d, um, remember who I was. It’s a little, ah… surprising, is all,” he added, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

Stardust gave a faint sound of amusement. “Hardly. You’ve provided me with mission critical information in the past, even going so far as to supervise on-site with the rest of the handlers,” he explained simply, his tone as easy as someone conversing about the weather. “I like to remember those who assist me.”

Yuma stared back up at the man, surprise coursing through him. Stardust knew him, and even thought he was _useful_ to his team?

“Th-Thank you…” Yuma all but whispered. “I-I mean, it’s always nice to be thought of when we’re just the guys in the background when you’re the ones running around doing all the hard work,” he blathered. “Seriously, you’re the one who needs to take all the credit for some of those missions. We can only provide so much intel, but when it comes down to it, you’re the one on the field and making the critical choices on how to utilise that information.”

The soft chuckle caught his ears and he stopped himself short, not really ready for how _nice_ the sound was to his ears. Not to mention how much it suited the agent. He could really do to laugh more.

Well, as much as someone in the business of professional murder _could_ laugh. Yuma didn’t want to think about that too hard.

“True, but I wouldn’t be doing anything on the field at all if it weren’t for the intel received beforehand,” came the simple explanation.

The cogs in Yuma’s brain took a sudden turn and he realised that not only was it true, it was somewhat of a moot point to carry on with his protests.

“Ah yeah, that’s true…” he murmured.

“It’s not damaged, is it?”

Yuma blinked back at him for a moment, turning his gaze back to the phone in his hand.

“Oh, um… no I… I don’t think so,” he replied distractedly. He drew his right hand up, tapping a simple string of command onto the screen before swiping it away with an arm-length gesture. As his fingers moved through the air, a sheaf of brilliant blue holographic layout stretched between them, displaying all manner of coding screens above them.

With his interface in place, Yuma tucked the phone back into his coat pocket, rapidly typing away at the hologram, receiving a series of shining checkmarks that skimmed past rapidly flitting eyes. Stardust could only watch in amazement as the young man interacted with the holographic display. Fully corporeal light relays? Just what else could this programmer do?

Blue eyes turned back to the young man, by now thoroughly engrossed in his work. This kid was something else, alright…

“Nope, all good!” Yuma suddenly exclaimed, and with a wave of his hand, banished the holographic interface.

He faltered a little in his mirth as he saw Stardust’s gaze boring into him with quiet scrutiny. That was the kind of look liable to kill a person, and he’d seen it enough times to identify it at the drop of a hat.

“That was some pretty impressive tech,” came the simple words.

Yuma suddenly felt very, very small in the wide open, well-lit hallway.

“You… you think so? It’s just something I find helps out on the go when there’s, y'know… no other terminals about, and there was nothing else like it around at the time, so… so I figured…” he trailed off.

Stardust’s brow furrowed lightly.

“You created it?”

The programmer gave a brief nod. “Yeah, I mean, the overlay tech we use in the main system isn’t all that different from this. It was just a matter of finding a way to combine the overlay system with light particles to produce a working display,” he explained softly, casting his eyes back down to the ground. “It’s just a far easier interface to use for practicality purposes. Being able to efficiently alter an input method suited to the programmer, to speed up analysis is something I figured would be needed in this field, which is… well… why I’m here.”

The agent’s brow rose at that, as Yuma continued on.

“The Academy saw what I was working on and asked me to join,” he gave a brief chuckle. “Well, it was more like they demanded. They made it pretty clear they didn’t want anyone else getting hold of my ideas. But… since then, I’ve been helping with ways to implement overlay tech into pre-existing methods.”

Stardust let that glut of information sink in, mulling it over in his mind. Something chimed in the back of his mind and he placed one hand on his hip, eyes narrowing faintly.

“When did you join the Academy?”

Yuma paused briefly. “Ah, about two… two and a half years ago now.”

The agent nodded his head, knowing without a doubt that this was the sole person responsible for his current position on the team.

“You helped design the marker overlay system,” he told him.

The programmer stared back at him, realising in rapid clarity exactly what Stardust was inferring. The very reason why Stardust became one of the very few proficient wielders of the system; he’d been using the marker overlay system since it’s conception, and only now did it make startling sense to the young man. Really, he _knew_ when the agent had the marker installed, and was given a place upon his handler team initially to watch his progress with the system and monitor for any abnormalities. He _knew_ , but still it surprised him to _know_.

Yuma was the one responsible for Stardust’s rank within the Academy.

“I… I did…” he breathed.

Stardust offered his free hand to the young man, a faint smile crossing his features. Yuma was a little stuck for a moment, but slowly raised his own hand to take the offered one, shaking hands with the man.

“Yusei,” came the simple word from the man.

The programmed blinked at him, a little lost.

“Given the circumstances, I don’t mind at all,” he explained quietly.

Crimson eyes widened slowly as he held the man’s hand, knowing full well the implications of revealing anything more than a code name or designation to another in the Academy. Then again, if it was Stard- _Yusei_ saying it, then it had to be alright… right?

“Ah, Yuma!” he replied brightly, clapping his other hand around their joined ones. Regulations be damned, this was now the most amazing thing to have happened in his entire _life_ right now.

“Oh, um, if you like, I can show you what I’ve been working on in terms of upgrades for the marker overlay system,” he suddenly gushed. “I mean, yours is still the original production type, so it won’t be able to handle some of the newer mod installs, but I can fix that up no problem at all!”

Yusei had to take a mental step back at this sudden turnabout in the young man’s behaviour. Maybe there really was something to the whole programmers-being-jittery-creatures notion; he certainly seemed to fly from one mood to the next rather easily.

“Alright,” the agent replied simply as their hands parted. “Why don’t you tell me about it over coffee? That seemed to be where you were headed initially.”

The casual comment caught Yuma off guard, and the agent reached up to tap a finger next to his marker.

“Path tracer patch.”

The colour flushed to Yuma’s face as he stiffened lightly, questions suddenly flooding his mind in the wake of his gushing humility. Since when did he activate- But he never touched-

“You… modified it?” he questioned softly. Yusei gave a brief nod.

“I found it easier to use an inherent relay system for simple activation commands, depending on the situation whilst in the field,” came the brief explanation. Yuma was thrown for a loop, because he was certain that nobody had ever explained the coding system of the marker overlay to the agent before, let alone how to _patch_ it to run alongside an inherent system.

“You have to be a quick study on the field, and it saves me valuable time,” Yusei continued. The young programmer stared back at him in pure awe. He’d _never_ heard of anyone doing anything like that with the marker overlay system!

“Oh wow that’s… that’s so cool!” he exclaimed, a second before realising what he’d blurted out and covered his mouth with his hands, embarrassment flushing through him. He couldn’t help it! His brain-mouth filter always shut down entirely when discussing new and innovative ways to implement technology, leaving him far too excited for his own good.

Yusei saw the flicker of shame in those red eyes and he bit back the sigh sitting on his tongue. Alright, this little programmer was a bit of a flake, but at least he was honest about it. He placed a hand to the young man’s shoulder, giving a light squeeze to bring him back out of it.

“Hey, let’s go get that coffee. I sure as hell need one, and I’m pretty sure you guys live off the stuff too,” he told him softly. Yuma drew his hands back to smile brightly at the agent. Mentioning coffee around him was like flicking a switch, it seemed to Yusei.

“You got that right. I think I’m about seventy-three percent caffeine at this point,” he replied with a laugh. His phone chimed in his pocket and he dug it out, scowling at the message.

“ _Seventy-one-point-six, actually_ ,” Astral’s message read on the screen.

“Rude…” he huffed.

“ _Correct, however._ ”

Yuma’s face set to a furious scowl as he furiously typed on the little device, everything else about him forgotten. The response was a chime of a message half a second later, and he replied even faster than before. Yusei watched the brief back and forth happen for a few short moments before Yuma shoved his phone back in his pocket with a derisive snort.

“Sorry about that. My AI is being a butthead,” Yuma told the agent, as if everyone had their own personal digital assistant. He brightened in a heartbeat, clapping his hands together. “So, how about that coffee? I can tell you all sorts of ideas I’ve got for the marker overlay system, and I’d love some feedback!”

Yusei couldn’t help the faint smile sitting on his lips. This kid was like a table tennis match, but one thing was for sure, he was interesting to watch.

“Sounds good. I prefer their salted caramel, but this late, we might have to settle for plain half and half,” he said, beginning to walk down the hallway. Yuma beamed at him, falling into step alongside the agent.

“The salted caramel here is the _best_ and totally my favourite too!” he exclaimed.

From within the confines of circuitry and electrical pulse, Astral could only give an amused smile as Yuma continued to babble excitedly at his new friend. At the very least the two seemed to be getting along like a house on fire, which warmed him to his core. Astral was more than happy the chance meeting with Yusei had gone so well; Yuma needed something positive in his life.

For someone who worked so hard for so little recognition, the program only wanted to help his creator where he could.

Good efficiency was hard to find, after all.


End file.
